


Nightmare

by Estethell



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Gore, Don't read if you are sensitive, Erebor Reclaimed, Gold Sickness (Tolkien), Graphic Description of Corpses, Horror, M/M, Murder, Murder Mystery, Not so obvious, Psychological Horror, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:15:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29247147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Estethell/pseuds/Estethell
Summary: Run Bilbo, run to save your life.Run away from that cursed place.Run away from the mountainEscape from where all his friends have been brutally killed...Escape from whoever is chasing you...Read the tags well!
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16





	Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> Translated with Google translate.  
> I tried to write a horror, I hope you like it, even if it is very gory!  
> Leave a kudos or a comment :)
> 
> Tumblr and Twitter: @Estethell

  
The wind blew strong through the foliage of the trees while the last waning moon waning was definitively covered by a thick blanket of clouds, plunging the wooded slope of Erebor into absolute darkness.  
Bilbo ran at breakneck speed down the mountainside regardless of where he stepped, trying to avoid the trees as best he could and extricate himself from the thick undergrowth. His hard-skinned feet as the soles of his shoes bled profusely from various wounds, but the hobbit seemed not to notice as he wandered desperately off the mountain.  
Stones, deadwood, thorny brambles, muddy holes, Bilbo would climb over and trample whatever he found in his path.  
The important thing was not to stop and not to look back.

Bilbo's labored breathing was one of the few sounds that accompanied the howling of the wind. Sometimes a branch creaked or a nocturnal bird took flight disturbed by the noise of Bilbo, other times the hobbit moaned in pain or because he lost his balance, otherwise silence.  
Absolute and unnatural silence.

Bilbo ran and cried as he tried to get as far away as possible from that cursed place, that bloody mountain.  
The lonely mountain.  
Erebor.  
He sniffed while with the filthy sleeve of his shirt he tried to wipe away the tears from his eyes that clouded his vision without losing the pace of the race. He was crying because of everything he had seen, everything he had witnessed, and his doom of him.

 _Do not stop. Yavanna please save me!_  
He repeated obsessively in his mind to try to dispel the horrible memories of what had happened in the bowels of that mountain.  
He could see them, everywhere, in the darkness among the trees of the forest, in the dead foliage of the undergrowth, in the leaves of the trees, everywhere.  
They were there and they looked at him with those glassy eyes accusing him, judging him, and trying to draw him to them.

It was as if they were yelling at him: you are next.

He knew that if he stopped it would be the end for him. His pursuer was right behind Bilbo, he was running to catch him, he wanted to capture him at any cost and reduce him as he had reduced all the others. Bilbo could feel his breath on his neck and it took all his willpower not to turn and look over his shoulder. He knew that if he did it he would see it and it would be the end for him; his legs would stop working in terror and his throat would block an inhuman scream and leave him breathless.  
And his pursuer would take advantage of it to finish what he had started.

No, Bilbo had to keep running, running to save his life, running to get away from that place and him, from everything that had happened and get to safety in Laketown, tell everything and hope that the men would send warriors to stop him.  
Because he had to be stopped.

It all started with the arrival in Erebor and Smaug's death. The company was delighted with the victory and the regaining of the lost kingdom and had celebrated for many days in the treasury room.  
But then something changed radically.  
It was not a sudden change, rather a creeping evil that had crept among the dwarves and that had slowly worn them out from the inside, only to end in the worst possible way.

Each day that passed the dwarves became more and more suspicious, grumpy and quarrelsome, always in a bad mood and obsessed with the treasure room.  
Then came the weapons.  
Everyone began to arm themselves with axes, knives, swords, daggers and hammers even though no one had yet come to threaten them from other realms. They looked at each other with distrust, one hand always on the gun handle ready to draw it at the slightest sign.  
And as was to be expected, no one wanted the hobbit around anymore, that foreign being they could not trust, that little creature so different from them, so treacherous and dangerous...  
Even Thorin had begun to push him away despite the fact that he was now officially his partner, showing how he had been affected more than all the others by that invisible evil that gripped them.

Suddenly, a large nocturnal bird took off just as Bilbo was running under his tree. His clawed paws barely grazed the muddy locks of the Hobbit's hair, who screamed in fright and dodged as best he could. The animal disappeared as it had arrived, and Bilbo could only see the black silhouette of the large bird of prey out of the corner of his eye.

Immediately Bilbo's mind brought back to light the terrifying scene of black crows massing in a chaotic crawl space on the balcony of Erebor's front door, croaking in a cacophony of screeching verses that Bilbo would hardly forget.  
And he would hardly have forgotten Oin's lifeless body being torn apart by those hideous beasts, Gloin's heartbreaking scream trying to drive them away while his beaks tore skin and flesh.

Bilbo shook his head and tried to regulate his breathing as he circled another half-burnt tree trunk. He didn't have to think about these things now, he couldn't do it or he would be lost!  
He kicked a boulder by mistake and broke his toe nail as a cry of pain left his throat and rose among the thick foliage of the forest. He slowed his pace with a limp and gritted his teeth, hoping the pain would soon pass.

The big toe of the left foot had the nail completely raised and the blood came out copiously from the wound soiled with earth and mud.  
There was so much blood even under the body torn apart by a blow from Balin, Bilbo recalled, lying on a stone bench in the room he had chosen as the archive for his documents. His face was locked in a grimace of pure horror, his dismayed gaze fixed on the ceiling. Dwalin had freaked out when he saw his brother's body and the other dwarves had left him alone to let him let off steam.

Bilbo sobbed and covered his runny nose as he started running again trying not to mind the pain.  
Was this what Ori had felt when they smashed his head with an ax? Sitting in a side corridor, leaning in a corner, his eyes still glazed incredulously ahead of him. The spatters of blood had reached the ceiling and had completely impregnated the pages and the cover of the book that he still clutched.  
His two brothers' screams of pain had echoed through the tunnels of Erebor all night, then the next day Dori mysteriously disappeared.  
You have never seen him again, although that same evening they discovered a huge patch of blood that came down the side staircase of the main door.  
It wasn't there before.

Bilbo began to cry again as the memories resurfaced in his mind. He didn't want to, couldn't remember the terror he felt when they found Nori with his belly ripped open and filled with gold coins, or the disgust when they found Gloin with his eyes gouged out and his tongue cut out, or how he had vomited when he saw. the body of Bifur which was completely missing his jaw shattered by a hammer blow.

Bilbo had to put his hand to his mouth and suppress a cough of vomit as the gory images of the slain company darted before his eyes making him dizzy.  
And then he heard him.

An evil, mocking laugh that promised only atrocities.

Fear took hold of Bilbo and his legs began to shake as he began to hyperventilate. In his haste he set one foot badly and stumbled and fell to the ground. He quickly stood up as the earth fell apart from his abraded skin, staggering to his feet and starting to run again.

The hiss of a blade whistled in the air and a throwing ax planted itself in the trunk where a few moments before there was Bilbo's head.  
The hobbit groaned with the purest terror and tried to take shelter among the tree trunks while he clearly heard other hissing whistles of the blades that cut through the air and got stuck on the ground or in the trunks of trees.

"It's useless to escape, damn hobbit, you already know it's all useless!"

The voice rang out in the woods like an unearthly death sentence, as if it had spoken to Bilbo directly in his mind. Bilbo's legs threatened to give out as he felt something warm wet his pants and legs.  
He tried not to notice as he wiped away his tears and continued to zigzag through the trees in hopes of sowing his pursuer.

“You know, Bombur cried like that too when his time came! You should have seen him, that fat man begged for mercy and pissed underneath with fear. He rattled like a pig in the slaughterhouse when I threw him into the cauldron full of boiling water. He stank to death!"

The laughter that reached Bilbo was so guttural and sinister that it chilled him.  
Another hiss in the air and this time Bilbo felt a sharp pang of pain in his right calf. He fell tumbling to the ground rolling on himself a couple of times, his leg looking like it was on fire from the pain. He curled up on himself as he stifled a cry of pain in the fabric of his clothing, then he tried to get up clumsily.

A large square shoe with an iron sole kicked him full in the chest, rolling him back on himself. As he did so, the throwing ax slipped from Bilbo's wound and he began to bleed profusely. Bilbo felt his head start spinning as the pain and fear of him took hold of him, yet he tried again to stand up.

The foot this time pressed on his back and crushed him to the ground not allowing him to get up. He was so strong, a dwarf against a weak and frightened hobbit, Bilbo couldn't do anything.  
It was over.  
With another terrifying laugh, his pursuer grabbed him by the hair and threw him to the side making him land on his back and knocking his neck to the ground. Bilbo opened his mouth in a silent scream, which turned to a stifled gasp as the dwarf planted his foot on his chest.

"In the end I managed to get you, you damn little bastard!"

"Please ... please don't kill me, I haven't told anyone, nobody will know. Please, I've always loved you, I..."

But the other laughed even more loudly and crushed Bilbo's chest hard. The hobbit coughed violently as he felt something rise up his throat and fill his mouth. It was hot and thick and tasted of iron.  
Tears began to flow down his cheeks.

“And do you think I believe you? You have seen too much, you know too much, you must die, like everyone else! And after you are all dead, there will be nothing between me and Erebor and his gold!"

“Is that why you did it? For gold?" Bilbo croaked, spitting a little blood.

"Everything is done for gold. You are just a stupid, weak hobbit, you will never understand!"

He was horrified as he took a large war weapon from the hook on his back.

"Is that why you killed them, those poor innocents? They were just children! Is that why you killed your best friend? And your brother?"

The smile turned into a terrifying grin. The white of the teeth fluttered into the darkness as the clouds finally opened, letting the moonlight filter through and began to lighten the depths of the woods.  
The scene looked so sadly similar to what Bilbo and the others found in the throne room of Erebor days before. The corpses of Kili and Fili lay scattered at the foot of the throne, while Dwalin's body was kneeling in a strange pose that kept him balanced. He was missing his head, and no matter how long they looked for it they couldn't find it. Thorin stared straight ahead, a spear planted in his chest pinning him to the stone and marble throne. His gaze was full of anger and amazement, a mixture of feelings that had upset his noble features in a horrible grimace.  
There was blood everywhere.

Bilbo closed his eyes to that violent memory of his lover murdered in that way on the throne he had finally managed to conquer, it was too painful to review.

“Nori has never been my friend, my dear Bilbo Baggins, as you have never been. And Bifur and Bombur are nothing to me. Those two fools, they didn't even realize that their beloved cousin and brother was nothing but an imposter. Bofur the miner, sure! The only Bofur I've ever known is the one I left to die in a landslide in the mines of Gondor. You should have seen him” He laughed heartily as he grabbed the pickaxe with both hands “He wanted to die with his hat, a memory of his father ... pathetic!"

He pitted contemptuously on Bilbo and rubbed his long, curled mustache with the back of his hand:

"It was so easy! A ridiculous mustache, long dyed and braided hair, and his damn hat, mimic his moves and his accent. Those two idiots didn't notice anything! Dear Bofur who returns home after decades, ready to immediately undertake a suicide mission with his family in the hope of a better life… HA!"

"Why?" That was all Bilbo could say as he watched as the dwarf he had known by the name of Bofur raised the pickaxe over his head, calculating where to strike.

“For the money, I already told you, and for the glory. Bofur, the only dwarf who survived the mission, the only one who is entitled to the treasure of Erebor, and perhaps to his throne. No longer the low-income criminal he kills to survive, but a king! But what do you care after all? You're going to die!"

Bofur's eyes widened in a frightening look as he lowered the blow on Bilbo, laughter spreading around him in an eerie way.  
Bilbo saw the blow come and then felt a stabbing pain on his right shoulder, then his left shoulder, finally his head. Each time Bofur raised his pickaxe, spatters of blood rose from Bilbo's battered body.  
The last thing he saw was the pickaxe rushing to his face.

*

Bilbo woke with a start, screaming and shaking like crazy.  
The other dwarves hastily approached his bed to try to understand what was happening. Oin immediately dropped to his knees next to Bilbo and took him by the shoulders, shaking him.

“Bilbo! Bilbo! Calm down, what happened ?!"

"I... I... you... I..." Bilbo stammered as his eyes swelled with tears, then he buried his face in his hands and began to sob.

The dwarves looked at each other in shock as Bofur approached Bilbo, followed by Ori, and tried to console him while Oin rummaged in his bag for some herb to infuse to calm the hobbit.

“On Bilbo, don't worry, it was just a bad dream. The dwarven kingdoms can have this effect on strangers, and Smaug only died yesterday, it's understandable!"

"Bofur is right, don't worry Bilbo, it's all over!" Ori whispered as he smiled at him.

Bilbo looked up and looked at Bofur in terror, instinctively trying to pull away from him as he looked around.

"Where is Thorin?" He asked in a trembling voice.

"He is finishing his watch at the Erebor gate, I'm going to call him" Dori said walking away.

Bilbo breathed a sigh of relief at knowing Thorin was okay, then a hand on his shoulder made him turn back to Bofur.

"It was a bad dream, don't worry" Bofur said as he hugged him tightly, not giving Bilbo the chance to pull back, then he added whispering in his ear "Believe me, everything will be fine, my dear Bilbo Baggins…"

Bilbo felt faint.


End file.
